Bedtime Stories - Leonardo the Terrible Monster
by aliceann
Summary: Peter, Elizabeth and Mozzie are caring for a four year old Neal. An ordinary day becomes an opportunity to understand what makes a family. This is for peppe 1951 and everyone who asked that I continue with this story.


**BEDTIME STORIES**

**Leonardo the Terrible Monster**

_Leonardo is truly a terrible monster-terrible at being a monster that is. No matter how hard he tries, he can't seem to frighten anyone. Determined to succeed, Leonardo sets himself to training and research. Finally, he finds a nervous little boy, and scares the tuna salad out of him! But scaring people isn't quite as satisfying as he thought it would be. Leonardo realizes that he might be a terrible awful monster – but he could be a really good friend._

Neal loved blueberry banana pancakes. "Lizabeth made them so delicious he could eat a hundred," he thought.

"Neal honey, slow down," she smiled as the curly haired little boy stuffed an enormous pancake piece into his mouth.

"Chew. You're just like your daddy." He'd been a bundle of excitement since yesterday when they brought home his new hamster.

"Morning hon," she said as Peter sat down to the table.

"Morning. Hey champ," he ruffled the little boy's hair. "Did you leave any for me?"

"Lizabeth's making a hundred!" Neal said excitedly. He could see pancakes stacked as high as the roof and rivers of blueberry syrup flowing from their chimney and spreading out onto the lawn. Soon the street outside and the neighbor's yard would be blueberries blue. He loved blue.

Elizabeth sat a stack of pancakes in front of Peter, leaned over and kissed him. She smelled like cinnamon and tasted like blueberries. Peter sighed with contentment; he was the luckiest man in the world. Neal watched as he made that silly face he makes when Lizabeth kisses him, right on the lips. Neal giggled and that made Satchmo join in, barking his approval. Peter looked at his pancakes and then looked over at Neal.

"Race you!" and the two dug into the heaping stack of pancakes.

"Don't encourage him." Elizabeth flicked a strand of flour dusted hair from her face and gave Peter a look. He needed a distraction.

"So how's Oz?" Peter asked the sticky fingered pancake bandit across from him. Neal named the newest addition to the Burke family after his uncle Moz, hence Oz. How appropriate Neal should name him after a fictional swindler. Peter smiled to himself.

And right on cue the door opened and the Wizard of OZ himself walked in. Mozzie. Peter looked at Elizabeth and mouthed _He has a key now?_

She mouthed back, _Hush_.

"Uncle Moz, Uncle Moz!" Neal went running and threw his arms around Mozzie's legs. Mozzie was carrying a large package and almost lost his footing when the little boy crashed into him. He propped the package against the door and walked into the kitchen towing the little boy with him.

"Uncle Moz, you want pancakes? They're gonna be delicious."

"Good Morning, Moz," Elizabeth said as she placed a large container of orange juice on the table. "Stay, I have a lactose free recipe," her eyes sparkled.

It beat a left over container of Kung Pao chicken, he thought.

"Thanks, don't mind if I do. And good morning to you, Mr. Suit."

Peter pulled out a chair for Mozzie at the table.

"So are you going to tell us what's in the package?" Peter eyed the large bundle leaning against the door.

"Neal told me you're taking him kite flying this weekend.

"Yes?"

"Well he needs a proper kite. Kite flying is an art. An ancient art I might add, passed from generation to generation. The kite was said to be the invention of the famous 5th century BC Chinese philosopher Mozi. No relation."

"Oh for God's sake Mozzie, the point please."

"The point is a boy's first kite experience should be more than a few hastily thrown together sticks, glue and polyester. It should be an aerial ballet of finely turned bamboo and silk."

"Neal is going to do just fine with the Burke Red Devil, handed down from generation to generation I might add."

"Amateur," Mozzie huffed.

Neal's eyes were wide as saucers as he watched the two men go back and forth.

"Boys," Elizabeth nodded in the direction of the small child who had stopped chewing his pancakes. "I'm quite sure Neal will enjoy kite flying with you both."

Peter never tired reminding himself of his great good fortune to have this smart beautiful woman for his wife. It warmed his heart as he remembered the sunny days of his boyhood and flying kites with his father. He was never sure who was more excited him or his dad, when the first days of spring came and the wind was just right. He had planned to make those same memories with Neal. If he had to share this with the odd little man who'd become a fixture in their household so be it. Mozzie loved Neal, so he was family.

"So, are you going to open it?" Peter asked.

Mozzie unwrapped the most beautiful kite Peter had ever seen. It was a dragon head with an enormous tail.

"For you mon petite frère." He held out the kite to Neal.

"A dragon kite! I love you, uncle Moz," Neal cried wrapping his arms around Mozzie's neck.

It still startled him when Neal did that, how openly affectionate he was. He wasn't good with children with their runny noses and grimy hands. They were germ ridden, rude and impossibly noisy. But Neal's sticky hands and warm breath on his cheek felt right. He liked the feeling but it made him afraid too. There was nothing big Neal and he wouldn't do for each other. There was an unspoken pact between them however; it didn't include physical displays of affection.

Little Neal was different, so open and trusting. He had the same smile. His eyes were a deeper blue, preternaturally blue, maybe a sign of the spell that had claimed his old friend. He missed big Neal terribly. He'd always shied away from friendships, kept to himself, until Neal charmed his way into his life. No one had ever accepted him as totally as Neal. He was a grown man but still ridiculously afraid of small things like butterflies and thunder. He remembered one of their first heists; a summer storm came up out of nowhere. Neal sat with him in a crawl space that barely fit one until his breath evened out and the panic left him. He never made him feel second best, but he was. Everyone was when it came to Neal, but together they were unbeatable.

It didn't take a genius to see how perfect his world was now. How often does someone have the chance to rewind the clock, turn back the hands of time and start over again? He felt oddly at peace as he watched the little boy ladle blueberry syrup onto his pancakes.

"Neal don't you have something to tell your uncle Moz?" Elizabeth prodded him.

In his excitement over the pancakes he forgot about OZ.

"Oh, Lizabeth bought me a hamster! C'mon I'll take you to meet him," Neal scrambled down from the chair.

"Hey mister, let's see those hands." Elizabeth caught him before he scampered off.

"They're clean, see," he licked the last bit of syrup from his fingers. "C'mon Uncle Moz, race you!"

Winded by his attempt to keep up with the little boy, Mozzie made it to Neal's room a few steps behind Satchmo who cheerfully took up the challenge.

"Uncle Moz this is Oz. I named him after you. Lizabeth said he has the same twinkle in his eyes that you have. You have to look close," he took Mozzie's hand and brought him over to his desk where OZ's cage sat. Oz raised himself up on his hind legs and stared at Mozzie and Mozzie stared back.

"See, the same twinkle," Neal climbed into Mozzie's lap and laughed. He pressed against Mozzie and he could feel the little boy's heart beating. He felt suddenly overcome with emotion as he held his old friend. Neal looked up and saw tears in Mozzie's eyes, as he struggled to regain his composure.

"You can have him for a sleep over, if you get lonely. If you want to. He's no trouble, he sleeps a lot." Neal put both his hands on Mozzie's face, "Okay?"

Mozzie gently hugged the little boy and put him down before he totally lost it. Oz was watching him closely. Then the biggest smile came across his face. Neal finally has what he deserves…a family. He left with schemes for a proper cage.

**wcwcwcwcwc**

He was crossed legged on his bedroom floor drawing. He was drawing: small kites, big kites, kites with long tails, dragon kites and Burke's red devil kites. He couldn't remember feeling so happy. Oz was spinning in his wheel like a madman and Satchmo was trying to keep up with the mountain of kites taking over the bedroom floor.

"Neal, time for lunch. Wash up honey and come downstairs." Elizabeth called up to him.

"Hey Oz," he poured some of the hamster food into the cup. "Time for lunch," Oz sniffed it and made a tiny squeak. Then he completely ignored his lunch and went right on back to spinning his wheel. Satchmo was watching him with some degree of suspicion. Ever since he woke up in the middle of the night and found OZ chewing on one of his dog biscuits, he kept a keen eye on him.

"Neal you hardly touched your lunch. Grilled cheese is your favorite."

"I'm thinking bout Oz. He didn't eat any of his lunch."

"He's probably not hungry, baby. Don't worry; he'll eat when he needs to."

"I don't think he likes his food. What if he doesn't eat? Can I give him some carrot sticks and raisins?"

"I don't think I have any." The phone rang, since Neal came to live with them Elizabeth worked mainly from home now.

"Honey, I have to take this." It was Elizabeth's caterer. "Listen, when I'm done I have to go to the market and we can pick some up. Why don't you go upstairs and finish your drawing. I'll come get you when I'm done."

Oz still hadn't touched his food and when Neal tried to pick him up; he went to the corner of his cage and sat there with his teeth chattering. This was not a good development the little boy thought to himself. When he got back downstairs Elizabeth was at her desk surrounded by papers. She had her glasses on and she didn't look happy. She was talking to someone in a high pitched voice she sometimes used on Peter. Satchmo made sure to stay back.

He was worried about Oz and then it came to him. Maybe Lizabeth had some raisins in her catering frigerator. He and Peter had been banned from going in it when six brownies went missing. Lizabeth used her high voice.

"C'mon Satchmo."

He stood on his tiptoes and reached into the massive refrigerator. He saw a package way in the back, looked like it could be carrots. He couldn't get his arms to reach, if he could just get past this big jar blocking his way. Then it tipped, twirled and spun over, he tried to catch it.

Satchmo started barking as the massive jar came crashing down. He made a no no no gesture with his head and lifted his fingers to his lips. "Be quiet Satchmo."

But it was too late.

"What on earth!" Elizabeth demanded. "Neal what are you doing, back here?"

"Nothing," he tried to block the view of the orange packet now lying in a heap besides him. It wasn't even carrots.

Elizabeth side stepped him. She was angry, but more relieved than anything else as all the awful scenarios of what could have happened played out in her mind. She crouched down in front of the small boy.

"Neal, we tell the truth in this family. I'm really disappointed in you. And that goes for you too mister," she pointed to Satchmo, who immediately went to the corner leaving his partner in crime to face the music alone.

His face was burning hot, Lizabeth looked so sad.

"Do we have to tell Peter?"

"Yes we do and you have to tell him."

His heart sank. He didn't know what dis dispointed meant. But he knew he didn't want to see the same look in Peter's eyes.

He didn't want much of anything for dinner. His head was making this funny sound inside like bees when they bumped against his window pane; thump, thump, thump. He pushed his food around on his plate. When Peter got home he was already in bed, something to do with a van. Peter came in to say goodnight and he shut his eyes really really tight and pretended to be sleep. He pretended so good he actually fell asleep.

Later when he woke up his night light was on. Satchmo came over and laid his head on his foot. Oz was running around on his wheel like nothing ever happened. At first the shadows on the wall didn't look that big, but then they kept growing and growing. They loomed over him. He though he heard a noise in the corner. He couldn't understand why Satchmo and Oz didn't hear it. He pulled his covers up, but he could still hear it.

Peter woke with a start. Neal was standing next to their bed holding his Leonardo the Terrible Monster puppet.

"What's wrong buddy?" Peter wiped at his eyes.

"My stomach hurts," he put his hand on his belly.

Peter was sitting now and Elizabeth had waked up too. "What is it honey?"

"It's Neal; he says he has a stomach ache."

"Come here sweetie, let me see." She pulled the little boy up onto the bed and felt his head. He was nice and cool, no fever. Then she felt his stomach and it was nice and soft. She looked over his head at Peter.

"Where does it hurt sweetie?" she asked the small child pressed firmly up against her.

"Right here," the little boy placed his hand over his heart.

Peter looked over at Elizabeth; her eyes were shinning with tears.

"Neal, why do you have Leonardo with you?" Peter asked softly.

"Because…..I'm scared. There's a scary monster in my room and Leonardo is a good monster. He's not scary, he's my friend."

Peter looked over at Elizabeth and mouthed, _I got this hon._

"Let's go check out your room." Peter took his flashlight from the bed stand drawer and carried the little boy back to his room. He looked in the closet, behind the curtains and under the bed. He shined his flashlight in Neal's toy chest.

"Nope, no monsters there. I think it's safe to get in bed." Neal climbed up into his bed and Peter climbed in next to him.

"Neal, are you worried about anything?" Peter's voice was gentle and calm.

And with that a floodgate of worries opened. "I was worried Oz wouldn't eat his lunch and he was gonna get sick. I was worried uncle Moz won't have anyone to fly kites with. I was worried cause I sneaked into Lizabeth's frigerator, broke her jar and told a lie." Then his lower lip began to tremble as he clutched Leonardo to him. "I was worried I dispointed you and you wouldn't want me anymore," now he was crying so hard his little body shook. It was all Peter could do to keep from crying too.

"Neal, sweetheart look at me. I love you. Elizabeth loves you and that will never change no matter what. You never have to be afraid of losing us. I will always find you."

"Even if I do something bad?"

"Even then," he smiled at the little boy who had finally stopped crying.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Now we have a big day tomorrow, the wind is going to be just right for kite flying. You and me and Uncle Mozzie have to get our kites ready if we are going to catch the first morning breeze. It's the best breeze. You need to get some sleep."

With all the excitement Neal was wide awake and besides he was not quite ready for Peter to go.

"Can you read me a story?"

"You boys are still awake?" Elizabeth padded over to Neal's bed. She had been listening at the door.

"I was just about to read Neal a bedtime story."

"C'mon Lizabeth you can fit," he scrunched over closer to Peter. "Well what do you want to read? Peter looked over at all of Neal's books. He had quite the collection.

"Can we read Leonardo?"

Elizabeth and Peter took turns reading until Neal was fast asleep. In his dreams, he was a big blue kite.

_Leonardo was a terrible monster. He couldn't scare anyone. He didn't have 1642 teeth like Tony. He wasn't big like Eleanor. And he wasn't just plain weird like Hector. Leonardo tried very hard to be scary but he just wasn't._

The end.


End file.
